


All That Is Ours

by lalala_broadway



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Community: kbl-reversebang, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-22
Updated: 2013-06-22
Packaged: 2017-12-15 17:50:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/852332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lalala_broadway/pseuds/lalala_broadway
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When betrayal rocks the royal kingdom of Dalton, Prince Blaine must fight to reclaim his throne and his land from his treacherous regent. But the enemies know Blaine’s weakness and they have kidnapped and taken a captive: Kurt. Now it’s up to Blaine and the inner circle of his best knights to save his love and reclaim his throne before it’s too late. Klaine Fairytale AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the KBL-Reversebang on tumblr. 
> 
> Thanks so much to [Raelee](http://gettingcrazywiththecheezewhiz.tumblr.com/) for being a champion beta, stepping in at the last minute. And obviously thanks to [Mary](http://mary-twist.tumblr.com/) for her incredible art - I am so honored to have gotten to write for such a beautiful piece. ♥
> 
> Warnings: Minor character death, violence, a tiny bit of swearing
> 
> Enjoy!!

~~~

INTRODUCTION

~~~

Long ago, in the faraway kingdom of Dalton, there lived a young prince with eyes of amber and a smile that brought light to all the corridors of his father’s castle, even under his strict reign. He lived in a rather large castle - a grand, sprawling citadel of gleaming stones and glistening marble. 

There also lived a young blacksmith’s son, with eyes like pools of clear blue water and hair always coiffed to perfection, who desperately wanted to see this palace. 

He wanted to take in the grandeur of the castle - to walk the halls and stroll the gardens, breathing in the beauty of it all.

And then perhaps return to his village and tell all the cruel village boys of his adventures, of how brave and strong he had to be to sneak in and spy on all their secrets... but that’s not the point of our story. 

It turned out that the blacksmith’s son was really quite clever - he sneaked his way into the castle, made his way all the way inside the main grand ballroom in the center of the palace... where he was stopped. 

Stopped on that grand staircase by none other than the prince himself, dark curls, honey-colored eyes, and all. He introduced himself.

“Kurt.”

“My name’s Blaine.”

And that is where this story began.


	2. Chapter 2

Prince Blaine Devon Anderson of Dalton was considered to be a brave and strong, and above all kind-hearted, prince. Since his father had died, just over a year and a half ago, Prince Blaine had been preparing to take the throne, working to prove himself to be a capable ruler while his father’s chief advisor, Lord William Schuester, acted as his regent - helping him to make decisions and run the kingdom until the council deemed Blaine capable of doing so by himself. 

He was beloved by all in the kingdom. They felt safe and comfortable in the knowledge that one day, he would rule the land and the well-being of the kingdom would fall upon his shoulders. 

Still, Blaine's constant worry was needing to prove himself as a ruler.

This is precisely why he did not need anyone to walk in on his wearing a gown with pins sticking out of him from every direction.

“Blaine! Stop squirming - you know the longer you keep moving, the longer I’m going to have to take to get this finished, right?”

Blaine huffed, but froze into place immediately. Kurt smiled coyly at him from where he knelt beside the prince, delicately pushing pins through the seams of the long fabric of a skirt. 

Kurt blinked innocently up at his prince through long eyelashes, “We did agree - whoever won our little game would get a favor from the other. Even if you do complain about it the entire time. Fair is fair.”

“It’s not _fair_ if you’ve got a clear advantage over me and ward it over my head all throughout.” Blaine grumbled. 

Kurt grinned, pushing the last pin through the fabric. “See? I know what it does to you when I win,” he said complacently. “Such a sore loser,” teasing lilt coloring his voice as Blaine shrugged off the fabric, revealing a plain tunic and hose underneath.

Blaine growled as he pulled Kurt to his feet, wrapping him up in his arms, “You’d be the sore one if I had won,” he growled, his eyes dark. 

His fair lover lowered his own lashes, hiding his eyes clouding with lust. “Perhaps I should add a second part to my prize, then,” he murmured as he leaning in for a kiss, allowing himself to be swept up in the embrace and fall into sweet kisses. 

The pair fell into step as their kisses deepened, stumbling back onto Kurt’s bed behind them, so distracted that neither truly realized that they had begun to walk backwards at all. 

They were absorbed in each other as they lay kissing. Two pieces of the same puzzle, fitted perfectly together since the day they had met. 

A prince and a blacksmith’s son - unlikely and imperfect in many ways. Yet in every way that counted, completely inevitable and gloriously perfect. 

It didn’t matter that their meetings had to be secret - that Blaine’s advisors would never approve - or that their relationship was currently known to only Blaine’s most trusted knights and Kurt’s family. 

One day Blaine would be king. He will have proven himself as a strong and capable ruler. And who would object then to his choice of consort, even if he was a blacksmith’s son?

Their kisses deepened in intensity and fervor, both getting caught up as they often did, before Blaine suddenly broke off with a purposeful, though reluctant, look on his face. 

“Wait, wait. There is something I must tell you and if we don’t stop now, I know I will forget entirely,” Blaine admitted sheepishly, pulling back and breathing deeply as he moved to sit properly on the bed, keeping one hand atop Kurt’s. 

Kurt furrowed his brows and sat up slowly, the look on his face matching the questioning but soft rubbing of Blaine’s arm. 

“I must leave on urgent business for a few days, my love. We received a call of distress from our sister kingdom, Crawfordia, late last night,” Blaine explained, stroking the back of Kurt’s hand as he spoke.

Kurt frowned. “Are they in danger?”

Blaine eyes were earnest and bright in the low light that filtered through the cracks in the ceiling of the cottage.

“No, they wrote that there was no immediate threat to the kingdom, that there was no need to organize soldiers, but it was an urgent matter nonetheless. One they would like to discuss with me directly.”

As Blaine spoke, Kurt’s worry only grew. “That’s awfully vague,” he murmured, eyes downcast and avoiding Blaine’s. 

“Yes, I agree.” Blaine consented, “but Crawfordia is our greatest ally. They aided us in the great drought just last summer, just as we supported them in their great rebellion years ago, and we cannot afford to ignore their plea. Not to mention it is our solemn duty to honor our alliances in all ways possible, no matter the vagueness of the circumstances.”

“Yes, but I don’t have to like it,” Kurt pouted.

Blaine smiled. He hooked a finger under Kurt’s chin, forcing blue eyes to meet brown ones full of princely nobility and duty. 

“I must go.”

“Yes. Yes, of course you must,” Kurt straightened his back and nodded once, pulling acceptance into his stride. He raised one hand up to Blaine’s cheek and stroked it softly, “You are my brave, handsome prince - Who would you be if you did not go answering vague and worrisome distress calls from neighboring kingdoms?”

Blaine chuckled as he took Kurt’s hand in his own and pulled it to his lips. “And who would you be if you didn’t handle these diplomatic matters as gracefully as if you were born to royalty yourself, as brave as a prince in your own right?”

“Yes, well. I can’t help but pull focus.” Kurt replied offhandedly, his usual snark only slightly dampened by his worry. 

Blaine smiled indulgently.

Kurt leaned close, resting a cheek on Blaine’s shoulder.“...I still don’t like it,” he admitted with ever so slight of a pout.

“It will be okay, my love.” Blaine reassured Kurt from his worryings. “I will return before you even begin to miss me.”

Kurt smiled half-heartedly and nodded. His lover was a prince, a future king of a great kingdom, and certain responsibilities would always come with that.

“You’ll be careful for me? Take care of yourself and watch out for anything dangerous?” Kurt snuggled down back into the softness of his bed, eyes looking up to Blaine to do the same.

“Of course I will. Nothing bad will happen to me. Nothing worse than the time Sir Wesley tangled us all up in that bough of poison ivy,” Blaine teased, eyes alight as he joined Kurt, lying down and wrapping an arm around his love. 

Kurt smiled and let out a breath of a laugh before nodding.

Blaine scooted closer before continuing, “And you’ll be careful as well? In my absence?”

Kurt snorted, “Please, nothing interesting happens here. Don’t worry about me. Focus on the threat of oncoming poison ivy.” 

The prince smiled chuckled as he rested his cheek upon Kurt’s head. Perhaps there was nothing to worry about here. With his lover in his arms, cuddling upon the bed and so very in love with him, he felt safe and at home. He could ignore that his every instinct was telling him to worry.

~~~

Blaine was set to meet up at the palace with the small band of knights travelling with him. His guard comprised of his personal and most trusted knights, chosen because they were also his closest friends. From there, the small party would travel to Crawfordia together.

“I’ll be the most careful prince in all the land.” Blaine assured for what felt like the millionth time that following morning. 

“You’re the only prince in all the land.” 

“Well, that’s all the more reason to be careful.” Blaine joked, earning himself a swat on the shoulder and one of Kurt’s eye rolls. 

The pair kissed sweetly as they parted. 

“I love you,” Kurt said as Blaine mounted his horse, turning to the castle where he’d meet his retinue of knights for the journey.

“I love you, too,” Blaine replied before blowing a kiss and cantering off towards the palace, then towards dangers unknown.

What he couldn’t have known was the danger waiting in his own kingdom, waiting to strike. 

And what he couldn't have seen was the figure in the shadows, hiding, listening to every word.

~~~

“You saw them in the forest?” 

The figure nodded on the ground where he knelt, as he replied, “I did. The prince has left for the kingdom of McKinley with his personal guard. The boy is left alone.” 

A slow smile spread across Lord Schuester’s face. “You’ve done well, Karofsky.”

Lord Schuester rose from his seat and slinked over to the window of his manor, peering out over the rooftops of a humble village. 

His eyes, however, were set on the enormous fortress of a castle in the distance. 

Sir Karofsky raised his head from where he knelt on the stone floor. “You plan his downfall, my lord?”

A slow smile slid across Schuester’s face. “Not just his downfall... I will destroy him.”

~~~

The next morning, Kurt was working at his father’s shop.

And working at the blacksmith’s shop, Kurt had decided when he was very young, was the most boring thing in existence.

Without Blaine, days in the village were dull. Mornings were spent minding the shop while his father pounded away at metal in the back rooms. Evenings, most boys in the village ventured out into the tavern. Kurt, with his high voice and “girlish demeanor”, was decidedly not welcome there. 

Some nights, instead, he’d meander across town to the tailor’s shop, where the village girls tended to gather to do needlepoint. 

Kurt was sitting idly, picking at a piece of straw and planning the embellishments he’d put on his next tunic, when the doors of the shop burst open, a panting Finn rushing in.

“Finn? What’s wron-” 

“The castle is under attack!”

Kurt stood in shock for a moment, simply staring at his step-brother for a moment before speaking, “What? Finn, are you sure? It’s not just-”

“There are flaming arrows being shot at the fortress walls, there’s an army descending from the hills!” Finn waved his arms frantically as he spoke.

“But who-” Kurt began.

“Lord Schuester.”

Kurt’s eyes narrowed. He should have known. Kurt had never trusted Will Schuester, with his arrogant gaze and calculating pauses. Blaine’s father may have appointed him Blaine’s regent before he died, but Kurt had always doubted that as a regent, he had Blaine’s best interests in mind. He had known that the man had aspirations of power beyond his station, but never that he would be as brazen as this! To raise an army, to march on the palace itself! 

With thin lips and an angry heart, Kurt took command.

“Finn, go to the Puckerman farm and get some of the armor they keep in their back room. Get bandages and food and any other supplies you can think of as well. I’ll get as many weapons as I can carry from the back room.” Kurt instructed swiftly, watching Finn turn and amble back out the door immediately.

Kurt spun and sprinted for the back room, calling out to his father as he went, “Father! Father, the castle is under siege, we need to help them in any way we - Father!?”

Kurt stopped short, shocked completely for the second time that day. Burt Hummel sat tied to a chair with strong rope, mouth gagged. 

Burt’s eyes blazed, but rather than looking at Kurt, they were focussed behind him.  
Before Kurt could comprehend it, his father was letting out a muffled cry - probably a word of some kind of warning - and Kurt was turning only to be faced with a large, bulky man in a mask.

Holding a plank of blunt wood. 

Kurt didn’t even have time to scream before the man was pulling back his arm and the world turned to black.


	3. Chapter 3

“I don’t understand, Your Majesty. We received the message late last night, a request for help - to come as soon as we could manage.” Blaine said, standing before the queen of Crawfordia in the large throne room. 

It had been a long two day’s ride to their sister kingdom, even with their short breaks in between, and Blaine and his knights were well-past exhausted by the time they arrived. 

Blaine had chosen a small guard for the journey, especially for a crown prince. Only a handful of knights had accompanied him, but they were his most faithful and devoted knights. Most of them had been his friends since childhood. 

They had been beyond frustrated and confused when they had arrived in their sister kingdom and no one seemed to know they were coming. 

Sir Wesley, head knight of Blaine’s personal guard, stepped forward with the letter they had received, “This arrived at the palace, two nights ago.” 

The queen stood and took the letter, studying it for a moment before speaking surely. “I certainly did not send this. It does not match the handwriting of any of my advisors, either,” she stood and returned the letter to Blaine’s hands, watching a puzzled look develop on the young prince’s face.

“But why would someone send this? Why would they want us to come to Crawfordia?” Sir Jeffrey asked. 

A tense pause descended upon the throne room. 

Blaine’s voice, low and grim, broke the quiet, “They didn’t want us in Crawfordia. They wanted us away from Dalton.”

The knights’ eyes grew wide as they took that in. 

“Prepare the horses,” Blaine ordered, “We must ride back immediately.”

~~~

Kurt awoke to a bucket of cold water poured over his head. 

With a muffled cry, he tried to sit upright, only to find that his arms and legs were bound by a rope. And that his mouth was gagged. 

He was lying in the throne room, Blaine’s throne room, but it wasn’t Blaine sitting on the throne. 

Lord Schuester. 

Kurt’s eyes glared with all the heat and anger he could pour into them, wanting to absolutely kill the man that dared sit so casually on Blaine’s throne. Legs thrown lazily to the side, half sitting, half lounging on what was rightfully Blaine’s. 

“Hello to you, Kurt.” Schuester leered, dangling a crown from his fingers as he spoke.

Kurt tried to lash out, struggling against his bindings, but was able to do little but scoot along the floor uselessly with his arms and legs bound so tightly. He tried to scream curses at his captor, but the gag prevented anything from being understood.

Schuester chuckled darkly, standing slowly and striding over to Kurt in long paces. 

“Have something to say, pretty one?” he taunted, bending at the waist to pull the gag roughly from Kurt’s mouth. 

Kurt’s eyes narrowed as he glared daggers at Blaine’s ex-regent and advisor, “You’ll never get away with this.”

Schuester grinned coldly, as if that was exactly what he wanted Kurt to say. “I already have. Your little prince is long gone to take care of a threat that never existed. In a kingdom that does not need his help. The rest of his advisors are quaking in their boots at the army I’ve gathered. Who exactly is going to stop me?” 

“Blaine will,” Kurt answered, confidently and simply, directly meeting Schuester’s gaze.

He barely flinched when the man erupted in laughter. “Please,” he sneered, “the little prince? He couldn’t stop a fly. He couldn’t argue with anything that he was told to do, following my every instruction like a little lost dog.”

The tyrant strolled back to his stolen throne, continuing to speak, “His father instructed me to prepare Blaine - to make sure Dalton would have a strong king. That’s what I have done. I’ve observed Blaine during my teachings and I have seen what is in his heart.”

The advisor sat upon the stolen throne, “And I have ensured that Dalton will have a strong king.”

Yet Kurt was unshaken, speaking with conviction, “Blaine _is_ strong. He’s also compassionate and kind, qualities you will never understand.”

Schuester growled, “Blaine is _weak_. He was too weak to say something when he knew that this mission to Crawfordia was a hoax, and he was too weak to rule the kingdom.” A cruel grin crossed the advisor’s features. “And he’ll be too weak to refuse submission when he sees who I have captive.”

Kurt’s blood ran cold. “What?” he asked, an icy feeling of dread filling him.

“The prince’s little dirty peasant lover,” Schuester mocked, enjoying the understanding that came over Kurt’s face. “He’s weak. He’s in love with you and all I’ll ask in return for your life is that he hand himself over to me... You really think he won’t come running when he realizes that you’ve been taken captive?” 

Kurt blanched. 

Schuester smirked, seeming to take Kurt’s silence as a victory. He clapped twice from where he sat and two guards appeared.

“Take him to the dungeon,” the tyrant ordered. Kurt was unable to respond before the gag was replaced and hands seized the back of his neck and both his arms, hauling him up and down towards the dungeons.

~~~

It was halfway back down the path back to Dalton, one day into their return journey, that Blaine and his knights were met on the road by Finn and Puck, two boys from Kurt’s village. 

Riding and flailing madly as they caught up with the prince, they panted out the news of his regent’s betrayal and the takeover of the palace.

Blaine’s expression grew darker as they spoke, “I should have known. Something felt off about this mission - something has felt off about Schuester for months now...” 

“There’s more,” Finn interrupted nervously. “He’s taken Kurt captive.”

If everything had seemed dire before, the world seemed to stop spinning as Blaine was delivered this news. Kurt. Innocent and beautiful, but strong and unbreakable Kurt. 

Blaine’s entire world and very reason for having any courage, himself.

Taken captive. Taken from the home Blaine had left him in, thinking that he’d be safe, all because Blaine dared to love him. Taken and held captive and hurt in ways that Blaine didn’t even know yet. 

Would they torture him? Would they hurt him, kill him?

No. Blaine refused to think that. It was bad enough that he’d taken him from Blaine’s arms. Schuester wouldn’t dare take him from this world, too.

The prince’s face was dark with anger rage boiling hot behind those amber eyes, “He’s taken my love, he’s taken my crown, my palace... How could this happen? Where were the rest of the knights!?”

Puck answered, “He ordered them all away, deploying them to missions that are months away from here. They were out of reach by the time the attack began. They’re definitely long gone by now.”

“And the ones that remained?” Blaine questioned, undeterred.

“Fought bravely, your highness. But Schuester’s men outnumbered them by far too many.” Finn admitted.

Blaine’s face grew solemn and he stopped his questioning short. 

“They _all_ perished?” he questioned in shock.

“It was less than fifty men were left on guard.. but yes. All of them were killed.” Puck replied.

Blaine hung his head in sorrow and anger, mostly at Schuester but also at himself for not seeing his regent for what he was much earlier. “And now this.. this _monster_ has Kurt.” Blaine growled.

Finn and Puck frowned deeply and the knights were equally grim behind him. 

When Blaine finally spoke, it was with a wavering voice, but unwavering purpose, “We must return at once.” 

~~~

Two days of being in a dungeon.

Kurt ached all over.

After being hauled down the long stairway of stone steps, bruising his knees and legs every step of the way, Kurt had been throne quite literally into a cell. His back collided with the wall of the dungeon, bruising the entire thing an ugly shade of purple, he was sure. 

Twice a day, he was brought a cold meal of some kind of mush. Whatever it was, he was sure it was terrible for his skin.

But worst of all was the looming figure present through all of these moments - David Karofsky. 

Growing up, Karofsky had been something of a bully to Kurt. Constantly following him and throwing him against the stone walls that surrounded the village with taunts and jeers. Yet, what scared Kurt most about Karofsky was the faraway look he’d get in his eyes sometimes when he’d watch Kurt. How he’d stare unnervingly, how he’d look almost _hungry_ at the sight of his favorite victim. 

It was no surprise to Kurt that when Schuester had gone around recruiting an army for this rebellion, he’d found Karofsky a willing sign-up.

And now, Karofsky had been stationed as some kind of guard before Kurt’s cell. 

Every day, Kurt would get more disturbed by the look in Karofsky's eyes as he stared him down, day in and day out. Kurt supposed it was the bully’s job to watch him, but... this went beyond that somehow.

Yet, Kurt kept silent. The last thing he wanted was to try to talk to the brute. It would be better to keep things simply silent.

This was part of why Kurt was especially dismayed when Karofsky was the one to start a conversation between the two of them. 

“So you and the prince, huh, Ladylips?” Karofsky had taunted out of the blue, eyes disturbingly as ever fixed on Kurt through the bars. 

Kurt had sniffed, attempting to cover his unease, “It’s none of your business.”

But the guard was undeterred. “Yeah, but why him? The prince is all... _fancy_ ,” he sneered.

“You call me fancy all the time,” Kurt replied bitingly. 

“Yeah, but why _him_?” Karofsky had urged frantically, completely unnerving Kurt. “You could have gone after any of us in the village, and you decide to go and land a prince,” Karofsky sneered.

Kurt gathered his courage as he considered Blaine might tell him to do. “Well, for starters, you are certainly not my type,” he replied with fake confidence, but true disdain. 

He jumped as Karofsky’s bulky body collided with the bars of his cell, nearly making him cry out as he jumped and clambered back into the far corner. Karofsky's eyes were blown wide and angry, but also... lustful? 

Kurt was terrified to realize that if it weren’t for the bars between them, Karofsky might have tried to kiss him. 

Karofsky seemed to come back to himself and realize his slip-up, face still open with vulnerability. 

But his expression was quickly closing up. Quickly turning dangerous, turning feral with anger. “You tell _no one_ about this,” he growled menacingly, when he seemed to realize he’d given himself away. His friends would never accept him for lusting after the feminine, pale faced boy in the village that everyone liked to tease - Kurt was no one’s best choice for the object of affections.

Kurt shook his head, still shaken from the encounter. “I - I won’t tell anyone! I would never-” 

“You bet you won’t,” Karofsky loomed, still terribly close to Kurt’s cell. “You won’t because you’re not going to be able to. Because I’m going to tell Schuester you’re being difficult. So that he’ll put the next stage of the plan in motion early..” Karofsky crooned.

Kurt was trembling in the corner of his cell.

He watched Karofsky call another guard to take his place, only slightly relieved at the brute’s absence as he was so afraid of his parting words. 

Kurt curled up tighter in a ball against the cold stone, tucking his face against his knees and pulling his up arms around his head. He wished desperately for Blaine to come save him.

~~~

Blaine was in a rage.

A simple, unadulterated rage.

It had been seventy-two hours, an entire _three_ days, since they heard the news of Kurt’s abduction. Wesley’s hair was sticking straight up, David had his forehead against the table, and Nicholas and Jeffrey just looked plain exhausted and too tired to look much else. Finn had fallen asleep where he was keeping watch outside the door, and Puck had gone for a patrol around the area just to keep himself awake.

Blaine, his knights, and Finn and Puck had found shelter and sanctuary in a small cottage at the hidden in the forest beside a deserted road. It was a location known only to Blaine and members of the royal family for circumstances exactly like this. 

There, Sirs Wes, David, Nick, and Jeff, as they were respectively nicknamed, all sat around a table, trying to sketch out a plan.

They had gotten nowhere with their rescue tactic. Not for lack of trying, of course: in the first hour or so, they had all been chock full of brilliant ideas. Each knight had had his fill of rescue ideas - Jeff had come up with a brilliant sneak-attack plan, Wes contributed a highly strategic plan of deception, while David and Nick offered idea after idea of invasion plans based on surprise brute force. 

Blaine had the most to contribute throughout the process, for his mind worked faster than it ever had, concocting up any and all ways he could rescue his lost love. 

But by the time several hours had passed, it because clear that none of their plans would work. By the time they got to mapping them out on a tactical map or even walking through the steps in their heads, the plan was proved too weak, or too futile, or just wrong. 

But they had soldiered on, combining ideas, mixing and matching pieces of their tactical plans, until all veins of ideas had run dry. Now, after an entire day without sleep or rest, they were at their wits end... and Blaine was furious. 

“I don’t understand! We should have _something_ by now!” Blaine cried, running fingers through free and messy curls. He looked a wreck - even more so than his knights by far - with the wreck his hair had become, the dark shadows under his eyes, and the wild look in his irises, tired and mad from exhaustion and worry.

Wes rubbed at his temples as he spoke, “Blaine, the castle is a tactical fortress of strength,” he reminded, speaking wearily as the words were reminded to Blaine for not the first time that day, “It’s completely surrounded and your grandfather did entirely too good of a job ensuring that that meant complete and utter safety.”

Blaine let out a strangled mix between a cry and a grunt of frustration, pushing away from the table he had been sitting at for the past few hours to begin pacing again.

“The stables! We could sneak in through the adjacent stables,” Blaine suggested, only to be cut off by an exasperated Jeff.

“No, Blaine, they put extra guards on the adjoining servants’ entrance. They’d see us in an instant.” 

But Blaine was undeterred, “Then... we can attack from the rear -”

“The rear gate? The one that leads straight to the throne room? Blaine, honestly, are you even thinking straight?” Nick reminded. They had been over that before, as well.

Blaine sighed hopelessly, exasperatedly. “Then we... we can go through the south, no...the north... no, just...” 

Blaine stopped his pacing, head spinning and suddenly slumped back against the wall. 

His knights jumped upright, racing to him. “Blaine! Are you alright?!” David cried, tilting Blaine’s head up from where it sagged against his chest. 

What they saw upon his face were tears. 

Tears streaming down his cheeks, their brave prince was truly having a breakdown. Heaving sobs wracked his body as he gave in to the pain and exhaustion of heartbreak.

And Blaine’s closest knights, who had first been Blaine’s closest friends, were suddenly at a loss. For all the protection they provided the prince, they had nothing now that would comfort him and no plan to offer to try to fix anything. 

For several moments of shocked silence they all just watched Blaine’s helpless sobs. Then, wordlessly, Jeff fell to his knees beside Blaine and wrapped his arms around his friend. Wes and David followed, then Nick, until finally the knights simply sat in a pile on the floor. 

They held Blaine and stroked his back but offered no words. There was had been enough words, enough failed planning. Now was the time for desolation.

It was amidst this that the door burst open. 

Puck stood at the entrance, breathless, leaning against the door frame. He had obviously ran here. Sweat against his brow and a wild look in his eye, he pointed behind him, towards the town, and panted out a single breath. 

“They’re going to burn Kurt at stake.”


	4. Chapter 4

The sun bore down hotly on the execution grounds. 

Kurt could see it in the distance, as he was manhandled towards it by a guard at each arm. A long, thick pole, surrounded by an empty space where there would soon be a pile of timber and twigs. 

Kurt’s feet dragged in the dirt, too tired and too weak from lack of food and water to fight anymore. In the past twenty-four hours, they had not brought him anything to eat or drink. 

That, however, didn’t stop him from holding his head up high and turning a nose up at the guards that lined the way and the small crowd that had gathered. They were in a relatively forested area, just beside the woods, but far enough that the fire would not reach them. 

When they reached the post, Karofsky was waiting for them with rope. 

Kurt struggled uselessly, knowing that he was too weak to truly get away, or even do any damage to his captors, now. That didn’t stop him from sneering at the brute winding a rope tight around his middle, didn’t stop him from lunging to try and bite Karofsky’s arm. Karofsky glowered at him, a thunderous look crossing his features, and delivered Kurt a hard slap across the face.

~~~

The knights had to physically restrain Blaine. 

They hid behind a tall hedge in the distance, armed with swords and bows and arrows, watching from a distance. 

They were dressed in peasants clothing, brown burlaps and coarse fabrics, disguised so that none would recognize the brave crew. The prince’s hair, usually tamed by creams and slicked back in a neat manner, was free of its confines. 

He looked every bit his part as a peasant... if you disregarded the noble manner of his demeanor and the regal tilt of his chin.

Blaine’s eyes lit with anger and his mouth filled with bile as he watched his beloved being dragged out. Strong, resilient Kurt was feeble under the strain of _three days_ of who-knows-what kinds of torture. His face was wan and paler even than usual. His limbs lax in the arms of the thugs hauling him along. 

And yet his eyes sparkled with defiance.

The prince growled lowly in his throat, watching the men manhandle Kurt up onto the pyre of wood, tying him to the wooden post. 

As his beloved struggled, Blaine’s eyes narrowed and his rage heightened. Still, a rush of pride ran through him in seeing Kurt with so much fight left in him to fight against his captors. 

That sliver of pride vanished when the guard dared slap Kurt across the face.

Blaine was seething in that instant, angry and ready to rush the stand. He wanted to run to his love, to save him. Wanted to make a beeline for his lover, cutting him free and holding him in one arm as he battled with the other. Wanted to cut down anyone who stood in his path, letting the white rage burning in his heart guide him to destroying them all. Starting with that wretched guard and finishing with Lord Schuester, himself. 

But quick hands restrained him. Grabbed him by the forearms and shoulders before he’d even left the ground he was crouched upon. 

“Blaine! We stick to the plan, remember?” Wes hissed beside him. 

Blaine blinked first through his intense glare, then after a moment, relented with a deep breath through the nose, quelling his impulsiveness and closing his eyes for a moment to calm himself.

Indeed, they had discussed this last night, after the news had come. 

Impulsiveness would get them nowhere. A foolhardy plan would get them nowhere against Lord Schuester's forces, especially since all of the rascal was expecting them. 

A stupid, impulsive move from Blaine would do nothing to save Kurt.

The prince breathed deeply and nodded to his commander, showing his regrasping of control. He had to be smart about this - he had to save the only thing that mattered now, the only thing in this ruined kingdom, in the ruined shatters that mattered in his life after all of this.

Because now, the only thing that mattered was Kurt. 

Saving Kurt. Pulling Kurt off that odious stake with his own two hands. Holding Kurt tightly in his arms once again, cherishing him and loving him as he should always be cherished and loved. Keeping Kurt safe so no one could ever touch him, so no one could ever do _this_ , ever again. Taking back his throne with Kurt at his side. Ruling with Kurt, marrying Kurt, loving Kurt with all his heart for all of his days to come.

Blaine clutched at his weapons - a bow and arrow in his hands and his sword clasped to his waist. They’d pounce at the perfect moment, just when all was most chaotic and easiest to manage. It was a risky plan, but still their best hope of recovering Kurt.

He was ready to reclaim what was his.

~~~

Schuester took his place upon the stand, sitting on a luxurious seat that had been brought out for him to watch the execution. 

If there was to be an execution, that was. 

Shuester would have preferred a slaughter. 

A slaughter of the Prince, his beloved, and any that dared stand up against him. He wanted it all over and done with here. Today.

It was a blatant trap. A simple, effective, plan that would only work on the weakest opponents, Schuester acknowledged. The opponents who let themselves be ruled by things like love or compassion.

The crowd quieted as he began to speak. “My people,” he called out grandly, “Today we may witness the death of a simple peasant, like yourselves, for the crime of being loyal to the previous regime... But I think we may witness much more than that. For I am willing to make an exchange.”

Schuester stood as he continued. “An exchange of the crown prince for his little.. _lover_ ,” he spat the word as if it were something dirty. The crowd murmured in surprise and understanding, but mostly horror as they realized the cruelty of the situation. 

“If the man who was once your prince will step forward now, this peasant need not be harmed,” he declared, arms outstretched and waiting. 

A long tense pause filled the silence that followed. 

Schuester stood, expectant and anticipating for much longer than he thought would be necessary. He finally sat, leaning unhurriedly against the arm of his chair, and deliberated. Was the little idiot prince stronger than he appeared?

No. The prince would come. The prince was surely here, waiting to see if Schuester was serious. Waiting to see if his regent would go through with his plans. If this was to be a test of wills, Schuester would have no problem winning it. 

Perhaps flame would do the trick, perhaps the little fool of a prince just needed to hear the screams...

He gestured to the executioner to come forward. A man of the church, dressed and hooded all in black but for the large cross resting against his chest. Schuester had figured his first execution as ruler would go better if it was performed by a religious figure. 

“Light the fires.”

The executioner began to make his way across the grounds.

~~~

Kurt couldn’t have Blaine give himself up.

Kurt had glared evenly at Lord Schuester throughout his speech. He’d glared at the crowd, at the guards, at the very sky above his head.

But it was all a facade. 

He was losing hope by the minute, losing all faith in the prospect of getting out of this alive. The place was surrounded, guards at every juncture, and all were waiting for Kurt’s beloved prince to appear. 

And yet Blaine did not appear. 

Which was right, of course. It was exactly what Kurt wanted. The last thing in the world he could ever want was for Blaine to suffer the fate Kurt was being threatened with. Blaine needed to stay alive, needed to survive to fight another day.

Needed to kill that smarmy Schuester and reclaim his throne one day. 

But that would not be accomplished here. Not with swarms of people waiting for him to appear, waiting to kill him. This was a hopeless case.

Sacrifices would have to be made if Blaine was to reclaim his throne one day. Certain things, certain lives, would have to be lost. Blaine and his knights knew that. 

Kurt took a deep breath in and blinked back sudden tears. 

This was it, then. He was going to die. 

He tilted his head back, leaning it against the post and looking up at the sky and the castle in the distance. He wasn’t going to let them see him cry.

The executioner stepped up, torch lit and nearing Kurt. 

Kurt only absently noted that he flashed a strangely demonic grin for a man of the church. But Kurt didn’t want to think about that now, now that he was so soon going to be proven either right or wrong about his disbelief in God and heaven.

Guards appeared with armfuls of sticks and twigs - kindling to start the fire - and made a large pile of them at Kurt's feet. 

“May God have mercy on your soul.” A quick flick of the torch downwards and the wood was lit.

~~~

Blaine watched in horror as the flames rose up, stringing up a weapon. 

The crossbow trembled in his hands as wide terrified eyes watched the flames rise quickly, catching onto the smaller twigs and timber in mere seconds. 

His knights prepared weapons beside him, waiting for the signal. 

Blaine waited two seconds for the guards around the pyre to back away from the smoke.

He waited one second more for Schuester to stand unguarded, a horrid smirk crossing his features. 

He waited no more, as he gave the signal lowly, as not to alert the people of their presence, “Now!”

Blaine was up first, crossbow in hand, and aimed for the only guard stationed between himself and Kurt. It was coincidentally, the brute of a guard who had the rope and slapped Kurt in the face.

Blaine stood surely, holding his archer’s stance and concentrating intensely for less than a second before letting the arrow fly, straight and true. 

He felt no remorse as the guard fell, dead. 

In the following seconds, pandemonium broke loose, just as the knights and Blaine had planned. The smoke from the fire made everything hazy and difficult to maneuver, giving Blaine’s knights even more of an advantage as they were highly trained, whereas Schuester’s village boys were not.

His knights panned out in every direction, fighting their way through the forces that bore down on them from Schuester’s army. 

Blaine headed straight for his beloved. 

The flames were rising at a rapid rate, faster than Blaine even thought they could. They were nearly up the pile of timber, closing in on Kurt’s delicate skin, even with Kurt staring at them and backing his way further into the pole as if there was somewhere to hide. 

The prince had hoped for a clear path to the pyre so that he could save his love swiftly.

Yet, soldier after soldier of enemy men got in his way. He cut through every man who dared stand between him and Kurt, but with each that he defeated, more seemed to appear.

Blaine grew increasingly desperate as he made his way across the field, tears streaming down his cheeks and his combat growing savage as he pushed harder to get to the flames. He needed to have had Kurt away from the blaze and back in his arms ages ago.

With the next hurried glance of his love, the prince agonized at the sight of the flames already at Kurt’s feet, licking at his toes and nearly up his ankles. To make matters worse, Kurt was slumping forward, coughing and choking on the smoke. He couldn’t breathe.

“Arrgh!” Blaine growled ferociously, cutting past the last soldier between him and the blaze. 

And then finally, _finally_ , he was standing before the flames.

Without even thinking, even second guessing it, Blaine was jumping in and cutting the ropes around Kurt’s lax form in one fell swoop. His beloved was slumping forward as soon as he was cut free, forcing Blaine to react quickly, scooping him up with both arms beneath Kurt’s body and lifting them both up and out of the flames. 

Blaine laid Kurt down on the ground several feet away from the fire, patting down any remaining flickers of flames on his and Kurt’s clothes with dirt. 

There were burn marks. There were horrible, red burn marks on Kurt’s legs, skin entirely scorched away in some places on his feet. Blaine had his own minor burns, but he felt nothing of his own physical pain, compared to the agony of seeing his lover’s body so mutilated. 

Blaine had little time to focus on that either, though, as another soldier bore down on them, forcing Blaine to raise his sword, not even rising to his feet before slicing the attacker down. 

It was suddenly in the midst of this all that a voice rang out across the field and made everyone freeze. 

“Hold your weapons,” Schuester had called out, his panicked voice giving away his alarm.

Blaine raised his head to find Wes holding his sword against Schuester’s throat, clearly at an advantage with the treacherous snake completely defenseless. 

~~~ 

With Wes holding a sword to Schuester’s throat, all movement in the clearing stopped. 

Kurt was completely unconscious still, head lolling on Blaine’s shoulder as he lay limply on the ground, propped up only by Blaine’s arms around him. 

“Hold your weapons!” Schuester repeated, louder this time, eyeing the scene apprehensively. 

The enemy soldiers were frozen, but held their weapons at the ready. If anything were to happen to set them off - particularly someone killing their leader - they’d descend upon Blaine and his knights in an instant. 

Wes and Blaine seemed to recognize this, seeking out each other’s eyes and silently nodding.

Wes ducked his head and murmured threats into Schuester’s ear, promising to cut his throat if they weren’t allowed out of the clearing alive. 

It was with some careful maneuvering and a constant weapon at Schuester’s neck that they were able to escape alive as a group. Killing the man outright could not have ended well for them, but counting the day as a victory and recovering Kurt was enough for the moment.

With the threat of the sword to his neck, Schuester kept his men called off as Blaine and his men escaped quickly into the forest, heading swiftly back to safety.

~~~

Blaine laid Kurt down on the soft bed, lowering him down slowly and cradling his head to adjust it to a comfortable position where it rested back on the pillow. 

Kurt did not stir. 

They’d retreated with little difficulty, then snuck through the shadows back down the hidden road to return to the safe house. 

Surely Schuester’s soldiers would be searching for them everywhere in the village, by now. Blaine had to trust in the knowledge that no one else knew of their shelter's location. 

Blaine had carried Kurt himself, all the way back to their base. His bones were weary with fatigue from battle and the weight of his burden.

Blaine barely felt it through the numb relief of having Kurt back in his arms.


	5. Chapter 5

Darting behind trees and carefully treading the shadows, Blaine and his knights had made their way back to the safe house through the forest. 

Kurt was nestled safely in Blaine’s arms, resting his cheek against his solid shoulder. One of Blaine’s arms was wrapped snugly below his knees, while the other supported his back. 

Kurt had been unconscious the entire journey.

It was a breath of relief, finally, for the small company of men to arrive back at the cottage. Locking the doors and knowing that for now, they were moderately safe. 

Blaine headed straight for the small bed in the corner, prepared for their arrival with clean sheets and medical supplies nearby. He laid Kurt down with immense care upon the sheets, arranging his arms and torso as gently and carefully as he could after pulling his arms out from underneath. 

Kurt was completely pale and wan on the palate. He still did not stir as he was laid down, his head simply lolling to the side in limp unconsciousness.

Blaine found himself stuck leaning over Kurt’s prone form, overcome.

On one hand, Kurt was safe. Kurt was lying before him, quiet and broken and still, but out of the clutches of those who wished him harm. Those who wished to take him away from Blaine, away from this very world. His pale, beautiful face was grimy from the smoke and from the dungeon they had undoubtedly kept him in, but beautiful to Blaine, nonetheless.

On the other hand, Kurt was injured. Very badly hurt and very badly abused, Blaine suspected, over the past few days.

Blaine moved, at last, from his frozen stance above Kurt to kneel at his bedside gingerly. He lowered his gaze to the foot of the bed, where Kurt’s feet lay. 

Red skin. Red was the only word for what Blaine saw, in more ways than one. Burn marks littered his lover’s legs, where clothing hung scorched away in tatters. At the least injured parts, Kurt’s thighs and the tips of his fingers were charred, singed by the fire, but only slightly. 

At the worst of it, Kurt’s feet themselves were completely covered in bright red, angry welts. They looked extremely painful and bloody.

And to top it all off, that wasn't even the full extent of Kurt’s injuries. As Blaine undressed Kurt, removing the shreds of clothing that still hung off his beloved’s body, he found numerous bruises. All along Kurt’s back, along his arms, and even along his collarbone, scrapes and bruises marred the skin, everything from little scratches to long bloody tears of the skin. 

Blaine had never felt as much a failure as in that moment, surveying the damage to Kurt’s cherished form. Wishing he had been faster, that he had moved faster on the execution field, that he had not left Kurt alone at all.

And yet solemn and quiet regrets would do nothing to heal his wounds. Blaine sniffed and straightened up with purpose, rising to his feet and gathering the supplies of bandages, salves, and medicines that they had stored at the bedside. 

He would help Kurt heal, and when Kurt awoke, they’d begin mending the things that could not be fixed with bandages and medicines. 

~~~

When Kurt awoke, the first thing he became aware of was that he was sore all over. That his back and arms ached, his chest and lungs hurt, and his feet screamed in pain. 

Next, he became aware of the soft bed beneath him. The warmth and feeling of safety for the first time in days.

Finally, a soft voice singing above him. 

“ _So why don’t we go, somewhere only we know-_ ”

Kurt opened his eyes slowly, blinking up at a low cottage ceiling and afternoon light. Most importantly, though, blinking up at a face that peered down at Kurt’s hands, stroking them gently as they sang. 

“... Blaine?”

Blaine’s face jerked up at the raspy sound of Kurt’s voice, “Kurt! You’re awake!” 

“ _Blaine_ ,” Kurt repeated, beaming weakly up at Blaine with his beautiful, beautiful face, his throat scratchy and thick with from the smoke. 

In an instant, Blaine was up out of his chair and leaning over Kurt’s form, leaning in close to place a soft kiss to Kurt’s forehead. Their eyes locked and Blaine’s beamed down at Kurt with so much love, so much appreciation and joy, Kurt couldn’t help but beam up at Blaine in return. 

But then Kurt shifted slightly and began to cough, wincing as that jostled the wounds on his body. 

Blaine frowned and was immediately back up, taking a pitcher of water from the bedside table and filling a cup. He leaned over the bed again and cupped the back of Kurt’s head, supporting his lover’s neck as he drank deeply. 

As he finished and Blaine laid him back down gently. Kurt grimaced as his upper back connected with the bed again, closing his eyes briefly. When he opened them again, he was looking straight into the eyes of his lover. 

“Blaine,” Kurt whispered a third time, voice slightly less scratchy and mind slightly clearer this time. 

Looking deeply into those blue eyes that he could get so lost in, Blaine began to feel himself break. He had failed Kurt so badly. But at least he was safe now, even if he was so badly injured. After being taken from Blaine so brutally, at least he was finally safe.

Blaine couldn’t help but begin to cry. Silent tears slipped down Blaine’s cheeks, falling onto the pillow beside Kurt’s head. 

“ _Kurt._ ” Blaine whimpered, holding Kurt’s face between his hands again. “You’re safe now. I’ve got you. I’ve got you, I - _Gods_ , I thought I’d lost you.” 

“Shh,” Kurt tried to reassure, “Blaine, I’m okay. Everything is okay.” But Kurt’s voice was still weak and Blaine was getting increasingly frantic, so he tried did the next best thing to calming his lover with words. 

Kurt leaned up as much as his injuries allowed and sweetly captured Blaine’s lips with his own. 

Effectively, Blaine fell silent, and after a moment of surprise, began to kiss back fervently. Kurt leaned back onto the bed, bringing Blaine with him and the prince braced his hands on either side of Kurt of the sheets. They kissed deeply, the frustrations and stress and worry of the past few days taking over them in heated release. 

When they broke, they were both panting, their foreheads resting against each other intimately. 

Kurt was the one to break the silence with a soft voice, “You saved me.”

The prince raised his head slightly, guilt shining in his eyes, “I also lost you. I fell for their stupid trap. They had captured you, they were going to _burn_ you, I-”

“No.” Kurt stopped him, a gentle finger rising to rest over Blaine’s lips. “You couldn't have known what was going to happen. You couldn't have predicted this. You were answering the call of a kingdom in need. You-”

Blaine hung his head as he interrupted, “I should have known better, though, Kurt. I did know better, I thought the letter was too vague and it nagged at me, but I went anyway. I should have investigated properly, I should have-”

Kurt shook his head. “All that shows is that you’re ready.”

Blaine stopped and raised his head in question.

“You’re ready. You proved you’re honorable enough to respect your duty to your allies, coming to them when they ask for aid, but still knew better than to rush into the mission. You’re instinct was right this entire time.” Kurt explained, looking deeply into Blaine’s eyes. “You don’t have to prove yourself by following them anymore, Blaine. I think you’re ready to make your own decisions as a ruler.”

Blaine stared for a moment. “If I had just trusted my own judgement earlier, you wouldn't have been captured,” he finally said deprecatingly. 

“Blaine!” Kurt exclaimed exasperatedly, “I wasn't _captured_ because of you, I was _saved_.” Kurt leaned in close. “You saved me.”

Blaine gasped out a breath and nodded slightly after a moment. “And I’m just so glad you’re safe.”

They rested together for a moment, just breathing, just taking in the moment of peace and taking in each other. 

That moment of piece ended up stretching well into the evening. It was in the fading, purple light of twilight that Blaine sat up to tend to Kurt’s injuries, filling Kurt in on the full extent of them as he went, soothing over them again with medicines and replacing bandages, gently as he could. 

Kurt winced through parts of it, but for the most part, just luxuriated sleepily in Blaine’s presence. 

Letting himself, for the first time in days, feel warm and loved and protected.

~~~

After a day or so of rest, Kurt found himself able to sit up in bed as Blaine and his knights strategized their next moves. 

When Kurt had woken up the second or third time, he’d insisted on seeing Blaine’s knights, thanking them for his rescue with gratitude shining from his eyes. Also for ensuring Blaine hadn’t done anything too stupid in his rescue. 

The knights had grinned down at Kurt and assured that keeping Blaine from doing stupid things was something they’d been doing their entire lives. They weren’t about to stop any time soon. 

“My father is safe?” Kurt had questioned once his thanks were given. 

Sir Nick stepped up to answer, “He’s perfectly safe. We've housed those known to be most loyal to the true regime in another safe house - the only other one known only to Blaine and us. He’ll be fine there.”

Kurt had been relieved, though a bit sad that he could not reunite with his father immediately to show him that he was safe.

“Finn and Puck are with them,” Jeff had added with a nod and a placating hand on Kurt’s shoulder, seeming to sense Kurt’s mood. And Kurt indeed it felt good knowing that the boys were safe as well. 

Now they sat around the makeshift tactical table, while Kurt sat a little ways off in his bed, offering ideas occasionally but mostly just listening. 

“I‘ve sent word to Crawfordia. They’ve sent soldiers to fight with us,” Sir Wesley explained, standing over the map.

“We’ll meet them here,” Sir David continued, gesturing to a point slightly outside the boundary of the forest, a very short distance from their hideout. “From there, we’ll progress to march on the palace.”

The knights around the table nodded their understanding and agreement.

Kurt spoke up from his spot removed from the table, “How many soldiers are they sending?” 

At this, Wesley frowned. “They could only organize about one hundred men.”

“But we’ll be outnumbered!” Kurt exclaimed, sitting up straighter and voice rising in worry.

Blaine stood quickly, moving from his seat at the strategy table to Kurt’s side. “Relax, my love. We can accomplish much with one hundred strong men.. besides, Schuester’s army are nothing but boys of various villages, recruited with promises of riches. The men coming from Crawfordia are trained soldiers.”

Kurt was not comforted. “But how do you expect to defeat them? It’ll be a fight of two enemy men for every one of ours!”

Blaine took both of Kurt’s hands between his own, grasping them firmly and holding them close to his heart, “Kurt, listen to me. Before I traveled to Crawfordia, I was nervous about the mission. I was skeptical, but I ignored my instincts and we rode out anyway.” 

His lover tried to protest, but Blaine continued, needing to speak the rest of what he had to say, “This time, I feel another instinct. I think we should attack with the men we have, not risk waiting and giving away our position. Or giving Schuester time to amass a larger army. And you were right, Kurt. With what you said before? I am ready to rule this land. I need to believe in that. I need to believe in myself.”

Kurt stopped short in his protests, a proud smile forming at Blaine’s declaration. 

“Well, then, my prince.” Kurt relented, leaning in close for a brief kiss, “Please proceed to take back your kingdom.”


	6. Chapter 6

The battle had been going on since sunrise. 

The soldiers sent by Crawfordia had sent a scout ahead with word that they’d arrive shortly before dawn. Blaine and his four knights had set to meet them, then immediately march together to reclaim the palace and Blaine’s throne. 

Kurt sat atop the cottage, having climbed up via a roof hatch and watched, waiting for the flag to turn from Schuester’s enemy colors to Blaine’s royal ones. 

He’d been waiting for a while.

Blaine had taken a long time to bid Kurt farewell that morning before marching into battle. The other knights had waited patiently at first, ignoring the drawn out string of kisses that developed. After a while though, when it got ridiculous, Sir Jeffrey had to clear his throat and half-fall, half-shove, Blaine away from Kurt’s eager mouth. 

Yet, the knights knew better than to urge Blaine away too quickly, especially after what the pair had just experienced the last time they were apart.

“I bid you to be careful only a few days ago and now I’m doing so again. But tenfold this time.” Kurt had murmured, holding fast to Blaine’s hands, unwilling to let go just yet. 

“And last time you did so, it was you who ended up in danger,” Blaine replied. His eyes bore deeply into Kurt’s as he spoke, “I don’t care if you _should_ be safe, I want you to be careful.”

Kurt had nodded solemnly, too emotional to refuse anything Blaine said at this point. 

“You’ll return safely to my arms?” Kurt asked after a pause, tears clouding his voice.

Blaine drew his beloved into another tight embrace, pulling back only to kiss him passionately once again. “I will. Nothing will keep me too far away from you, my love. It is just for now that I tell you-”

“No,” Kurt had stopped him. “I’m never saying goodbye to you.”

Blaine’s throat had closed. “ _Kurt_. I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Blaine.”

And with that, another passionate kiss, and an embrace, Blaine led the soldiers and his friends into battle. 

That left Kurt, hours later, sitting upon a roof, just wishing for the battle to end and his love back in his arms.

He’d climbed up with much difficulty, using his arms to pull himself up the roof through the roof hatch without putting any weight on his ruined feet. Setting himself up there had allowed him a clear view of the palace. There was currently smoke curling out of the upper windows and from where appeared to be grounds on the south side. 

The smoke had been going on for what had to have been several hours. 

Besides that, the cries and clangs and general sounds of battle could be heard vaguely even from the distance Kurt was at. Neither of these factors were doing any good for Kurt’s anxiety.

Still, he waited on top of the cottage, watching the castle going up in smoke in the distance. 

Suddenly, a Kurt heard a dim thump from the cottage below him. 

Panicked, Kurt spun quickly, turning his torso too quickly to be mindful of his injuries and wincing slightly. No one had come near the cottage from the front entrance, which Kurt had been surveying from where he was watching the castle. 

He realized belatedly that he should have been watching the back entrance to the cottage, as well. 

Scooting over to the other side of the roof to peer over the side, looking to make sure there wasn’t anyone lurking near the rear of cottage, Kurt didn’t notice when the hatch opened silently behind him. 

It was too late to react when he felt a pair of hands grab him and cover his mouth, dragging him backwards and muffling his scream.

~~~

The battle was long and rough, even by the standards of the soldiers from Crawfordia, and definitely by Blaine’s.

Indeed, as Blaine predicted, Schuester’s men were little more than boys. They were little match for Blaine’s force, even if they were greater in number. Blaine had ordered the soldiers to spare as many of them as they could. 

Jeff and Nick were fighting together with a pack of soldiers in the lower halls. 

David was leading a group in the eastern wings. 

Wesley and Blaine were side by side currently in the towers, searching room by room for Schuester. 

They’d checked in the throne room, the King’s quarters, Blaine’s own prince’s quarters, several official state rooms, and most of the palace’s secret hiding places. There had been no sign of the tyrant anywhere. 

The prince and his head knight pushed their way past the last two guards, bursting through the doors to one of the larger towers in the palace. 

Blaine prepared himself to lunge into a duel as soon as they were through the door. This was the last place Schuester could be in the palace, this had to be where this would all end between the prince and his treacherous advisor. Blaine’s eyes scanned the room.

It was empty.

“Damn”, Wes swore, punching at the ground with his sword. “Where the hell is he?” 

Blaine was just as confused, “Where else could he even be hiding? Between us and the soldiers, we’ve checked every room.”

Wes moved to lean a forearm against the wall, catching his breath. “You don’t suppose he ran? Like the coward that he is?”

The prince shook his head. “No, he’s too hateful to flee the kingdom entirely. He won’t get an opportunity like this again,” Blaine paused thoughtfully for a moment. 

“So you think he’s still in the kingdom somewhere, then?” Wes confirmed.

Blaine nodded, crossing to the window and looking out over grounds and the village in the distance where he knew his love waited. “He has to be.”

The door burst open suddenly and both men had their swords up and ready in a second. They lowered them, however, when the intruder proved to be David and a young serving boy he held by the scruff of his neck.

David held tight to the serving boy, gesturing to him with his eyes as he spoke, “He says he has information for you, Blaine.” 

Blaine nodded and the child stepped forward. “Your highness,” the boy mumbled, looking at the ground nervously.. or perhaps guiltily. “Lord Schuester sent me to search the forest for you. And I... I saw you coming down a deserted road so I followed it. And found a little cottage and I... I’m sorry, highness, I reported it back to his Lordship before the fighting started this morning.”

Halfway through the child’s speech, Blaine’s blood ran cold.

“Wes is in charge, keep fighting!” Blaine commanded Wes and David before sprinting out the door and fighting his way down and out of the palace. 

He had to get to Kurt.

~~~

When he finally arrived at the cottage, it was entirely too quiet. 

He paused for only a moment as he reached the clearing where it was located, stopping outside and taking note that there wasn’t a soul in sight. Kurt would have been watching, waiting for him.

Blaine opened the front door warily, sword raised, only to find that he needed not look any further for the man he loved or for his enemy.

Schuester stood in the center of the room, holding a knife to Kurt’s throat.

“Not a step closer,” the advisor commanded, an insane tinge to his voice.

Kurt had his arms pinned behind his back as he stood upright on those bloodied, injured feet. His eyes were pinched with agony and his lips bitten inwards in a thin line, holding in his screams. His eyes locked with Blaine’s however, strong and defiant, instructing Blaine not to give in.

“Stay back!” Schuester repeated, a wild glint in his eyes matching the savage look on his face, enjoying the prince’s fear, curls of his hair sticking in many directions in a display of what appeared to be madness. “Move any closer and I’ll kill him!”

Blaine froze immediately. 

“Now you’re going to take out your sword and you’re going to do something immensely stupid with it. You’re going to fall on it and let yourself bleed. You’re going to let me just stand here, not doing a thing, and watch you die.” Schuester commanded.

Blaine blinked in shock for a moment. Kurt was similarly wide-eyed. 

“Do it.” the man urged, wild and mad under the pressure of the morning’s attack.

Blaine raised his sword slowly, eyes locked on Kurt’s the entire time. Kurt made a strangled noise of protest, Schuester looking away from Blaine for just a moment to glare down at his captive. 

That was all the distraction Blaine needed. 

Sword raised, Blaine strode one step nearer to Schuester, still only halfway across the room. 

“Not a step closer!” Schuester screamed, eyes turning panicked as he looked back at the prince. Blaine froze once again, hands raised but expression challenging. Schuester, in a panic, raised the knife in his hand away from Kurt’s neck and pointed it towards Blaine. 

In that moment, several things seemed to happen at once.

Kurt twisted his arms and then body away from Schuester, turning his body and wrenching his arms out of his captor’s control. As the advisor fumbled in confusion, grasping at air, trying to regain his grip on Kurt’s form, he was too out of focus to realize that the knife in his other hand had been stolen from him neatly. Kurt facing his captor and gripping his knife with both hands.

And Kurt plunged the knife smoothly into Schuester’s stomach. 

Kurt stumbled back a step as he watched the man choke for a moment, blood spilling from the wound in his middle, eyes wide with shock and disbelief. His skin grew paler by the second, until finally his face grew lax and his eyes glassy as he fell to the ground, spilling blood upon the ground in a pool of bright crimson. 

The events had taken place so fast, everything had happened so quickly, that Blaine was still reeling, viewing his worst enemy, dead upon the floor. Yet his thoughts were for his lover, unmoving and standing completely still before him. 

Kurt stood, seeming just as wide-eyed, just as shocked as his prince. He turned slowly, letting his gaze meet Blaine’s for several moments before the knife slipped from his hand. 

“Blaine, I-”

Tears filled his eyes as he stumbled a step forwards, the pain of the burns under his feet seeming to catch up to him as he fell. A short, desperate cry slipping from his lips as Blaine caught him before he hit the ground. 

Desperate, heart-wrenching sobs found themselves fighting their way up Kurt’s throat, straight from his chest. From the stress of his kidnapping, to the horror of reliving it in the past few hours, and finally the dealing blow that had taken his tormentor’s life, everything seemed to sink in for Kurt as he sagged in Blaine’s arms. The pain of standing upon his injuries, of conducting himself and fighting with them, had apparently sapped all the energy out of Kurt’s body.

“Shh, shh Kurt it’s okay. It’s going to be okay, you did so well. Kurt, you did it.”

As Blaine wrapped his lover up in his arms, comforting him and holding him tightly, crouching on the ground with him sagged into his embrace, it finally began to seep in.

It truly was going to be okay. 

It was over. 

And if he had looked out the window, he would have seen his own royal flag raised in his honor over the castle. Wes and the knights had taken back the castle.

They had won.


	7. Epilogue

“We’re going to be late, my king,” Kurt’s voice floated from across the throne room. 

Blaine turned his head from where he sat on his throne, finding his fiancee making his way steadily across the tiled floor towards him. 

It had been six months. 

Six months since the events that had forced Blaine into his own, forced him to own the life that he was meant for and the title that had been rightfully his but unclaimed for so long.

It had taken some time to heal after their triumph. Both Kurt’s injuries and the kingdom’s weak state had been at the top of Blaine’s priorities, and he devoted his efforts to working to strengthen both individually. 

The people had already loved Blaine, had already sided with him since before everything that happened. The kingdom was restoring itself smoothly. 

It was Kurt that took more effort, but Blaine was all the more willing to care for him just as much as he needed. Kurt’s injuries had taken time to heal - were still healing, if Blaine was being honest. The burns on his feet would leave scars, whirls of strange reds and oranges, that would never fade. Walking had been painful for months. 

The emotional scars had taken more time, by far. 

It was weeks after their victory that Kurt had been able to tell Blaine of the choking fear he felt in the stone cells below the castle. Of David Karofsky’s taunts and Schuester's sureness that using Kurt would be the key to Blaine’s downfall. Of how ashamed Kurt was for how easy it was to kill Schuester, in the end.

Blaine had held him through these confessions and stroked through his hair, peppering kisses and quieting sobs whenever needed. 

It had taken five months before Blaine felt they were both stable enough to propose. 

Kurt had said yes, of course he had said yes, it was never a question in anyone’s mind. 

That brought them to the present day, a formal presentation ceremony for Kurt to the people of Dalton. They knew him already, of course, or at least knew of him. The prince’s true love, who’d been so integral to the restoration of his throne. 

It had taken time for Kurt to feel ready enough for a public presentation, but it was long past time for the people to be formally introduced to their soon-to-be king. 

They’d love him, Blaine knew.

“We won’t be late,” Blaine assured, rising to his feet and bending to kiss the back of Kurt’s hand delicately, his eyes shining up at his fiancee through long eyelashes. “The people have just been waiting for us. Waiting for you.”

Kurt shuddered in his fine embroidered clothes. Blaine couldn’t help but admire. Kurt was born to dress like royalty. 

“I just hope I don’t disappoint them.” Kurt muttered, a rare show of vulnerability. 

“Hey,” Blaine reassured, reaching out a hand and taking Kurt’s in his own, “You could never disappoint them. You are perfect. We’ve come this far, this shouldn’t be that hard, in comparison, right?”

Kurt’s lips twitched upwards at the corners as he tightened his hold on Blaine’s hand. “I suppose not,” he agreed with a smile. 

“Together?” Blaine offered. 

“Together.” 

And with that, they made their way out of the throne room and through the doors that were thrown open before them, walking onto the balcony outside, into the sunlight. 

With the hoards of cheering crowds deafening his ears, and Kurt smiling out at them as naturally as could be, Blaine knew that this is where he belonged. This was the bliss he had fought for, the happiness he and Kurt had found by some fortune at the end of all the madness. 

Blaine turned to glance at Kurt, who caught his eye and beamed back at him. They still had healing to do - both healing of the kingdom and each other. It would be hard, but they'd have each other the whole way through, and it would be worth it. 

And after all they had fought for it, they welcomed it. 

They raised their faces to the roar of the crowd, men and women calling out in praise of their kings, and smiled. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed!! ♥
> 
> All feedback is really appreciated. :)


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